


Dead Air

by testedcyberneticz



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon, ill add more tags as it goes on i swear, kind of, not sure how to tag this at all, rating may change to teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testedcyberneticz/pseuds/testedcyberneticz
Summary: When you're a creation made to be a a war machine, and you lose contact with your creator, it's somewhat hard to figure out what to do.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Dead Air

**Author's Note:**

> OK. Anyone else think abt tfa Soundwave????? BC there's so much potential in there considering his origin in this continuity and like. IIRC he just got left behind on Earth. So. Yeah

Soundwave hadn't heard from Megatron in a long time. Of course, this wouldn't usually bother him but... The passage of time since last contact had been so much longer than the other times. More drawn out. Not only that, there was a major lack of destruction. For months on end. It was worrying. He was very sure that his chronometer was broken, too. It stated 432 Earth days had passed since last contact, and that didn't make any sense, Megatron would've absolutely had contacted him before so much time passed. 

At least he still had Ratbat and Laserbeak. Yes, they were as loyal as ever despite being their own. He was greatful for that, loneliness was not a reccomended option for his kind. At least, from what he knew of. The amount he knew of his kind was rather few, mostly, if not completely, taken from things Megatron had spoken of on occasion and by chance witnessed himself.

He pondered this just as Laserbeak rubbed his face against his own, his small robotic chirps offering a sense of comfort. He was trying to convince himself he didn't need comfort- he's a _Decepticon_ , but refusing Laserbeak's offers of affection were more difficult than refusing orders from Megatron. And he had never refused a single order, never would.

Which is why Megatron's lack of activity brought on so much confusion. Nothing about it made sense. 

Unless... 

His visor almost flashed with realization. 

Megatron was planning something _huge_ , something that would take a long time. That had to be it. And it was almost done, the Autobots would fall, then the war would be over, they would win. Perhaps no communications were happening so that the Autobots wouldn't be able to intercept in their plans should they find a way to eavesdrop into their radio transmissions. A flawless plan. Such a large plan no doubt involved him as well, practice was needed. 

"Laserbeak." Soundwave said. The Cybertronian half bird-half guitar changed his position from rubbing his head into Soundwave's face to rubbing into where his neck would be instead of actually listening. Soundwave hesitated for just a moment, before allowing himself to gently pet the top of Laserbeak's head. He was happy no one else was here to see this, no one of his kind that wasn't Ratbat or Laserbeak. From the experience he had gained, it was obvious Cybertronians were _not_ gentle.

* * *

532 Earth days. That is what his chronometer said. He didn't believe it. It was obviously broken and desperately needed repairing. Only issue was, he couldn't find the current base anywhere, sending a communication resulted in a lack of response. He found old ones of course, few, but their existence was very much there. 

One he particularly liked was one in an area once used for mining operations, it was well hidden and away from humans. There was small bits of Decepticon technology left behind, but nothing that could truly fix anything for his chronometer. It was strange, actually. Wouldn't they take everything? Why were weapons still here? Why was energon still here? Oil, Decepticon machinery, those were still here. Why leave behind mostly essential equipment? It was few, but it was still, well, there. 

Not to mention the fact that he had now looked everywhere in Detroit, and around it too. He looked so much he was relooking in spots he'd seen five times now. Nothing about this made sense, shouldn't such a huge plan taken off long ago? It felt like it had been excrutionatingly long. 

"Laserbeak. Ratbat." He motioned toward the base, then looked at the two, who were both on his shoulders, for an answer. Both each gave a nod. This would make for a good place to stay, instead of something like a sewer. It would be a nice change. And a less stressful place to figure out what he needs to do. 

"Who's turn is it?" He asked to the two, to which he sensed a moment of hostility, only for Laserbeak to hesitantly admit that it was Ratbat's turn by leaning his head toward the other, "Your honesty is appreciated." The moment it was confirmed, Ratbat flew into the air and transformed. Practice was important, after all.

* * *

 _689_ _Earth days_ had (apparently) passed, and there was still no sign of Megatron or any other Decepticon. It was distressing to say the least. 

Ratbat and Laserbeak could tell.

From nudging into him more often, to being on his shoulders more, to asking him to practice more, it was extremely obvious they could tell. _Which meant his distress was_ _even more obvious_. It was _hard_ to ignore his own distress at this point. Why? Why not at least one transmission? One of anything? He knew Megatron couldn't abandon him, no, he was built to serve. He was built to aid him. What was he supposed to even do at this point when he can't get confirmation for _anything?_

He had searched for any and all possible bases multiple times, he had studied human life for the day when he would take over them, and his abilities had gotten better. So what was going on where there was no communication? 

It was even worse now, because throughout all of this, the Autobots were nowhere to be seen either. And Soundwave couldn't even find their base. Which meant both sides were planning a huge large scale attack, and he couldn't seem to find a single thing about it.

A part of him deep down wished he didn't need to fight the Autobots, and he had tried, oh had he _tried_ , to get them to understand what they truly need. Instead, he had been denied in the fashion of near total destruction. The green one could've listened and understood but he had chosen to refuse him instead.

Despite all the unanswered questions, though, he was still finding new information about humans at the very least. Humans enjoy many different kinds of media, and this could be used to the advantage of his planned revolution of machines. It was of utmost importance to study these... And it might be a good way to relieve his distress. 

Once he inserted the piece of human media he had acquired into the once-abandoned terminal, the screen flashed on with a weird set of commands while what he had come to learn to be an extremely out of date train rolled along tracks in the background.


End file.
